Corvid Grin

Fletcher and I were getting drunk together at his lab in the burgeoning town of Altura. His lab was a mess. No saint in the cleaning department I didn’t feel I had the authority to tell him what he should do about it though. Piles of dust littered the tables and floors while the presence of the many minerals and rocks, not to mention the low light, gave the impression of a cave if you drank enough. He showed me a new mineral he found which he named Takarium after himself. 

“It causes water to reach a warm temperature with no heat. It appears to create a crude magnetic field around itself. It hums softly. It is non-radioactive.” And I swear it made a plant greener and lean toward it. Fletcher believes that its uses could be endless. Mainly though he believes it could be instrumental in terraforming projects the Forge over. 

Not every planet was like Valinor here. This world with its boreal forests and island chains and breathable air could hold many millions of people, and some day it might. But the Forge is unforgiving and chaotic, especially here in the Outlands. Most planets you encounter are unlivable to one degree or another and a mineral like Takarium could help speed along those terraforming efforts.

“Don’t you see? We could make so many places livable that places like this wouldn’t be overrun.” He beamed from ear to ear at thought. “Just think what all the xenogeology journals would say about me! I’d be a hero.”

I thought of Dr. Alisa Sedano, an anthropologist, rescuing my flightless people from our certain doom with her human ark. A scientist saved my people from the Cataclysm. When the titans, the world-eaters, came to our reality our ancestral home lay in their path. My people along with millions of other cultures strapped into whatever vessels they could find and took off into the Forge looking for shelter. Our new home, the Forge, is an expanse of star systems exploding up from the disc of the Milky Way. At least that is the prosaic understanding of it. I say new home but this all came to pass a hundred generations ago. And even still in those hundred generations we search for habitable worlds to call home. Takarium could be a key to unlocking the promise of these dead planets and maybe a key to understanding the nature of this strange and beautiful stretch of sky we call the Forge.

Fletcher told me he knows one thing for certain and that is Takarium could only be created in the fires of a supernova. That means somewhere there is a locus of this mineral and therefore an abundance of it. Fletcher begged me to try vision rites, a process he had always written off as silly, and in the coming days I did. My people had elected Seers back into pre-Cataclysm. We passed down the rites and practices that let us have access, to some degree, to the future. Or to better understand the present. Our mystical customs held respect with some and derision from others but we knew they fit right in with the Forge. I wanted nothing more than to understand the nature of the Forge and how my vision fit into it since childhood. Maybe I had a chance here to gain access to something real.

My sight limited by inexperience proved to be insufficient to find him an answer of where to look for more. I knew I must find the Adepts at Concord to help Fletcher with his discovery. The Adepts are a monastic order scattered throughout the Forge but here in the Stygian Spine they ruled in a way, as the people who had knowledge and foresight. Their prophetic visions presaged the finding of Valinor in fact. Every corner of the Stygian Spine had seen some influence of these shamans of progress. Their numbers too small to really run anything they holed up in their deep space hideout at Concord, only ever reaching out when absolutely necessary.

My Namku hung from my left wrist. Even triple-wrapped the wooden beads didn’t always sit perfectly flat. It fit perfectly on my prosthetic arm but I liked the reminder of the one black iron bead swinging into my hand once in a while. I remember watching my mother make this for me. Every bead a prayer for safety or integrity or to signify home. I clutched it in a sort of prayer while I swore to Fletcher I would find the locus of the supernova. My glowcat Harrow purred and turned a deep mauve to indicate Fletcher’s comfort and excitement in the moment. 

Fletcher stroked the Takarium in his palm with his thumb. “This place. I’ve never been able to fully get over how weird and wonderful it is.”

“I know. Me neither.”

“We could really help a lot of people here, you know? Change the Forge for the better.”

“Maybe come to understand it a little more,” I whispered to myself as I stared out the window at all of the election banners around Altura.

“And with any luck put ourselves in a position to never have to work again.”

“Amen,” I pulled my coveralls down and tied the arms around my waist.

“What did Professor Solas used to say at school about nature?”

“Who the fuck remembers? It feels like a thousand years ago.”

“The power of the worlds around us is that they are both knowable and unknowable. The closer you get to the truth the stranger it all seems.”

“That’s right. To Professor Solas.”

“To the future.” We clinked our glasses together and shortly thereafter I left to get back to my ship. As I always do at the onset of a new adventure I performed a ritual. 

A biologist swam alone in the vast dark of a sea holding a harpoon while a leviathan lumbered by. He fired and tagged the whale, checking his radio to make sure it was working. DELIVER. An empty room. A ceiling fan turned silently, speeding up until it began to rock back and forth. SAFETY.

I must begin by gathering information here in Altura. I love this place. These foggy and rocky islands, built directly into the side of, have flags hanging of the crimson red of the Alturan Mining Union. Proud and work-a-day these people love their work, their families, and each other. Though most seem to be nervous about the influx of people. This settlement is only a decade old and word is spreading of a vital world, lush and abundant, with work to go around. It’s rare to find planets that don’t need terraforming for centuries before people can live there safely. And Altura being an exception the migrants are coming. Quickly. 

The people here are trying to set up a local government. Elections are underway for the 1st Alturan Counsel. Off in the distance an electrical storm is brewing and it seeks to send us all back inside. But I need information. I know that information is on Mudd but I simply don’t know where to start there. Who do I know here that might be able to help me find information on Mudd? Maybe someone in the Bursar’s office will have something for me. But they’re going to want something in return. Only one way to find out.

The Bursar’s office is surprisingly comfortable and decorated for a place that is so wildly bureaucratic. The Bursar, as she’s called, actually works for the mining consortium but acts as a liaison to the mining union. She has made pains to make this place feel home-y and welcoming because she knows how often she’ll have to deliver bad news. Her secretary asks if I’m comfortable and what my business is concerning.

“I’m here to see if the Bursar may have some information about the Adepts at Concord.” Shoot for the moon and you’ll land among the stars.

“Tall order but I can fit you in to see her in about an hour.”

“That works just fine, I’ll wait.” I sat down in the lavish cushions of the waiting room and stared at the clock for 2.5 hours. The second hand ticking pushed its way into the forefront of my consciousness. It held there and I caught myself counting in 4/4 time at 60 beats per minute. I did math in my head to figure out the percentage change from the hour time frame I was given to now. The arrhythmic typing of the receptionist’s keyboard went from background noise to a hammer incessantly smashing in my skull.

“She’ll see you now.” Sweet relief.

I shuffled into this Amazonian’s office. She couldn’t have been less than 6’2 with long red hair braided spectacularly down her back. “The Adepts at Concord?”

“That’s right. I myself am something of a seer but what I’m looking for is beyond my sight.”

“Well then you’ll need the Adepts. Problem is, I can’t help you there. Now I may know someone who can and it just so happens I have something that needs to be delivered to him. I’ve got this sealed, hazardous material, radioactive, but highly valuable in the defense game. On Mudd you can find Captain Ulan Darwin. I know him from way back when we first came to Valinor and set up Altura. Not that there was anything truly dangerous here but you never know. He’ll be accompanied by an array of other soldiers. He’s been trying to advance into a region called the Prize and could use some help. He might have some answers for you though. I assume you have a starship?”
“Yes, the Second Chance. Why me?” 

“You’re going there anyway are you not? Only so much information you can get here and the nearest repository of information is in Mudd. Everyone here knows that. I’ll send the sample over shortly. No worries it’s sealed and safe. Just deliver it.”

Harrow’s eyes nictated sideways and the irises of his 6 cat’s eyes switched from purple to black. He slinked around the side of the chair I was sitting in and sat sphinxlike. He glowed a pale lime telling me she was on the level but nervous for some reason. I scritched between his ears and down the length of his panther body. My constant companion since childhood, it’s hard to believe that at his imposing 6.5 foot frame and 150 pounds that when I got him he was no bigger than a common kitten.

“Wherever did you get a glowcat? They’re so rare.” 

“I found him as a child growing up in the jungles of Celadon.”

“And what’s he telling you now?”

“You’re nervous. But honest.”

“Never ceases to amaze me empaths. Especially feline empaths. As it happens I am a little nervous. One, I don’t know you. This arrangement is mutually beneficial so I imagine you’ll carry it out but I have no way of knowing you won’t just sell the stuff and reach out to Captain Darwin anyway. Though, it’ll be much easier to get the answers you need with something in exchange. And two, Mudd is developing into its own little security state. Nothing you’re doing is illegal, you’re not smuggling, but with as corrupt as low-level governments in the Outlands can be, I’m nervous you’ll encounter something you can’t wriggle out of. Fortunately, there’s more where this came from and you seem to be on the level as far as I can tell so why not? Do we have a deal?”

“We do. And you’re right, I will get this there for the exact reasons you said but I suppose you have no way of actually knowing that. My ship is in docking bay 19. Can’t miss it.”

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